


Of Zombies and Naked Pillow Fights

by becca_letters



Category: Glee
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-27
Updated: 2010-12-27
Packaged: 2017-11-10 13:14:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/466692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/becca_letters/pseuds/becca_letters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>disclaimer:  I do not own Glee. But if I did Cory Monteith and I would be in those pictures with Fin and Kevin Bieksa.<br/>an:  prompt from <span class="ljuser i-ljuser"></span><a href="http://stainofmylove.livejournal.com/profile"><img class="i-ljuser-userhead"/></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="http://stainofmylove.livejournal.com/"><b>stainofmylove</b></a><i>  Welllllll, I love Puck/Rachel and Jesse/Rachel. Either of them reminding her that she's not a Finn zombie might be nice ...</i>  This is what came out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Zombies and Naked Pillow Fights

  
They’ve been back at school and preparing for Regionals. Rachel has been trying to focus on winning, preparing the best she can. It’s not like she has a lot of friends or other things to focus on. Even her career and MySpace videos have taken a backseat this year. Especially with Finn and all of the social planning that happened around his sports and their scheduled date time.

She feels completely at a loss. Her team is ripping apart at the seams.

Mercedes and Santana have been fighting over solos, Brittany and Artie have been spending most practices holding hands and being generally sickeningly saccharine. Sam and Quinn are being Sam and Quinn, which in itself is enough. Lauren Zizes has no experience singing in a group, and she’s barely putting in the amount of effort to learn the words of the songs, much less the harmonies. Mike and Tina are wrapped up in the fact that their parents have scheduled a family dinner, and it’s all that they’ve been talking about.

That leaves Puck and Finn. And she can’t allow herself to think for too long about either of them.

Ninty percent of the time, it works really well, but then there’s that moment when she’s singing a song so familiar she doesn’t even have to think about it. The melody is so known that it flows freely out of her, vibrating through her painlessly.

Then Finn’s voice joins her, and the shivers start up her spine. She looks over at him. He’s so beautiful. Brown hair that’s just starting to curl a bit, and deep brown eyes that hypnotise her until she can’t look away. She feels the most amazing joy singing with him. When their voices blend she completely forgets everything else. Like she knows that he’s the only one that will ever be able to sing that way with her, so that it touches this part of her soul.

But then, the moment the song is over she watches the coldness enter his eyes again. She dies a little bit.

It happens over and over. Each time, she falls a little bit harder, a little bit faster than the time before. Isn’t it supposed to hurt less over time? It’s been almost a month and it still feels like Finn ripped out her heart yesterday. Like this big gaping hole inside her won’t ever heal because she can never be-

“Oh my God. Stop it!” She blinks rapidly at the voice. “I can’t hear you writing out your melodramatic sob story from here.” Puck drops into the chair beside hers, slouches down and spreads his legs with a little jostle.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says automatically. She’s alarmed at the lies falling from her mouth so easily.

“Oh, cut the bullshit. You’ve been acting like a fucking zombie for weeks now.” She shifts away from him as Puck’s hand almost brushes against her arm.

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand to what you are referring.” She tilts her head up, so that her nose is pointed just a little bit in the air. She squeezes her knees together. The socks sit high on her calves still, the elastic band at the top digging in just a little bit to remind her that they’re there. She flattens her skirt against her thighs, pushing it just a little bit underneath.

“Seriously, Rach, you’ve been like the walking dead for weeks. You need to wake up. The crazy girl I knew wouldn’t be doing this moping shit. She’d be having naked pillow fights with Santana and Brittany over solos.”

She looks up at him sharply then, narrowing her eyes at his words.

“What? A guy can dream, can’t he?” He chuckles at her, and she finds that although she’s annoyed that he would objectify her like that, she feels something spark inside her.

“I would never participate in something so crass.”

“Pity,” he says. There’s a long pause, and she watches his eyes go glassy.

“You’re imagining it right now, aren’t you? You are completely incorrigible, not to mention extremely uncouth.” She grabs her bag and exits the room.

It’s not until she’s home in the safety of her room that she really thinks about what he was trying to say to her. It takes even longer to admit to herself that maybe he was right. Not about the pillow fighting of course, but about the solos and about her lack of spirit. And maybe starting there will be enough.


End file.
